


Memorising the Map of Your Body

by Renne



Category: Kings
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renne/pseuds/Renne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which it's Jack at David's door instead of Michelle, and all the future's nightmares are written in Jack's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorising the Map of Your Body

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted to LJ [here](http://futureperfect.livejournal.com/897414.html).

There is a knock at the door and David hesitates, hands tightening on the bag a moment, convulsively. He turns to the door, opens it and--   
  
It's not who he expects. He expects Michelle, with her soft hands and eyes; instead he finds the other Benjamin sibling with a deep, abiding horror a shadow clouding his eyes that he can't mask.   
  
"Jack?" David says as Jack pushes into the room, past him, shoving the door shut. How Jack slipped his captors, David doesn't ask. He doesn't want to ask, because what he knows can't hurt him. What a lie, it'll kill him, if Jack is found here; he'll be complicit with whatever Jack did to escape his father's guards and David, who has just escaped Silas and Jack and this whole goddamn family, will be dragged down again.   
  
Jack stops, looks at the bag on the bed, the things David has left to pack. His mouth thins and there's a twitch of muscle in his jaw. (He looks older, David thinks, in the way only heartbreak can make someone look, bruised eyes in a pale face because he's lost everything he ever wanted.)   
  
"You--" Jack says, stops, swallowing hard. He steps up to David then, moving quicker than David expects and when Jack's hands close in the front of his shirt, knuckles hard against his chest as he drives David backwards until his shoulders slam up against the wall. David gasps, hands coming up to break Jack's grip--and he could do it, break his grip, grab his wrist and shove-twist-shove and he'd have Jack face down on the bed, arm bent up behind his back and oh, Jack would despise how easily he did it, despise David even more for the humiliation.   
  
Except.   
  
Jack leans in and his mouth is hot against David's, wet and unexpected, and David hesitates a moment because this is not--   
  
No, it is, he wants this, and he opens his mouth with a rough groan, the slide of Jack's tongue against his as Jack pushes in closer against him and oh god, David can't--he doesn't--he groans again as Jack grinds up against him, desperation in every line of his body. He breaks the kiss and David chases his mouth, panting, as Jack murmurs his name against his lips, broken and hurting. There's something in the way Jack touches him that feels like loss to David, like he's making memories, as Jack touches him, ruts up against him. David should be mortified he's just as hard and needy as Jack as he pushes back, as his hands close on Jack's shoulders and he drives him backwards, til the back of his knees hit the bed and David tumbles over him.   
  
Hands fumble with clothes, aching for bare skin and Jack burns like fire underneath David, his leg hooked around David's as he arches up, their bodies fitting together in the slick slide of sweat-wet skin and Jack's fingers biting into his shoulders, the desperation in kisses, in Jack's mouth on his jaw, his neck. Need, and David doesn't need this the way Jack does, but he wants it, wants to feel Jack Benjamin come apart under him and then follow him over the brink and he does, hard. David pants Jack's name over and over, the jerk of his hips and he shudders, slumping forward.    
  
Jack, who touches his shoulders and runs his fingers down to the small of David's back, who lies there with his eyes closed and a peaceful look on his face, Jack, who David has never seen look peaceful before, careless of the stickiness between them as David shifts so his weight isn't bearing down.    
  
Jack opens his eyes and breathes out, like he's been holding his breath the whole time. "So," he says, the familiar rough depth of his voice now tempered by a kind of loose satisfaction, "now you can say you've had both of the king's children."    
  
And it's so Jack, so so very Jack, but David can't be hurt, can't be offended, because as he props himself up on his elbow and looks down, Jack's eyes are clear.


End file.
